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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29378547">Wake Up With a Nightmare and Dream On</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksparrow589/pseuds/jacksparrow589'>jacksparrow589</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>And When I Hold You Close, the Truth Becomes a Lot Less Scary [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anne of Green Gables (TV 1985) &amp; Related Fandoms, Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character death in a dream only, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:41:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29378547</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksparrow589/pseuds/jacksparrow589</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The last time they'd had this much unchaperoned time together—only a month ago, which is far too long if you ask either of them—they'd been asleep for most of it. Now, at least he's able to take in the beautiful simplicity of it. He feels a little odd, enjoying a moment Anne can't in the same way, but he's hoping her peaceful rest will make up for it. Someday (really many somedays, he hopes), they'll both lie awake together like this, in both the wild places Anne has a knack for discovering and in the privacy of their own home. They know it's not sinful to love or be loved, just as they know that they will seal that love in a societally preordained way when the time is right.<br/>-----------<br/>After a horrifying nightmare, Anne seeks Gilbert's comfort. A picnic and a nap together ensue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gilbert Blythe &amp; Delphine Lacroix, Gilbert Blythe &amp; Sebastian "Bash" Lacroix, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, The whole Lacroix family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>And When I Hold You Close, the Truth Becomes a Lot Less Scary [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158080</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wake Up With a Nightmare and Dream On</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>CONTENT WARNING: If you missed the tag, this story does contain character death in a dream sequence. The death is not incredibly graphic, and the character lives after the dream, but the scene may still be upsetting to some readers. This occurs in the last three paragraphs of italics, should you wish to read and skip only that.</p><p>Title is from "Fever" by Vancouver Sleep Clinic. Other songs inspiring this piece are "Whispers" and "Collapse" (both also by Vancouver Sleep Clinic), "Saturn" by Sleeping at Last, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron, and "To Build a Home" by The Cinematic Orchestra.<br/>Takes place a month or so after "I Will Buy You a Garden Where Your Flowers Can Bloom". If you've not read it, I'd go back and read it before reading this just for context.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first light of the late summer morning sees Anne all too awake in her bed at Green Gables. While her day isn't supposed to be anything too exciting, she certainly hadn't imagined this start when she'd fallen asleep last night. "It's just a dream," she sobs, wrapping her arms around herself. "It was just a dream…"</p>
<hr/><hr/><p>
  <em>"You realize that what you ask is impossible."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No matter how much Anne squints, she can't make out the source of the voice, shrouded in darkness. It is masculine, it is light, and there's something familiar about it, but Anne can't place it. "For him, I'd do the impossible. I think my presence here is proof enough of that."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>After a moment of silence, a soft feminine voice, a little deeper than Anne's, responds, "We are moved by your impassioned plea. Your actions are motivated by love; however, that itself is not enough. You must prove your trust and commitment are equally sound."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'll do anything," Anne promises. And she would. She knows this won't end cruelly, that they won't be forced apart once on the surface. The gods know how fleeting time is for mortals; they'll give her the chance she's traveled here to the Underworld for should she see her test through.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"It will be a simple test, but not an easy one," the Queen—as Anne has taken to calling her in her head—informs her. "You must lead him out of the Underworld and to his home without speech, and without looking back once you leave this chamber. You may only hold his hand. He will make no attempt to walk in front of you; you need only worry about your own actions."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The King continues, "If you look back to him or speak once you leave this chamber—you needn't remain silent, but you must not speak or use words—he will be forfeit, and his soul will remain here. You will live the rest of your natural life on the surface. Do you understand?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anne nods. She can feel herself pale. "Yes."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She sees the shadowy Queen nod, and in the dim light of the chamber, Anne can swear that the Queen's hair is the same red as Anne's own. She doesn't dwell on it, though, as someone else appears at her side.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Gilbert!" Anne grabs Gilbert's hands. He lifts one of hers and presses it to his cheek, but he doesn't speak. He doesn't need to; the tender way he gazes into her eyes says enough.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Close your eyes," the King commands, firm but not unkind. Anne does as she's bid. "Take a step forward, just so."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The chamber is so quiet that Anne can nearly hear her own heartbeat. She knows she would hear movement, so she's not sure how the Queen makes her way over to Anne so quickly. The Queen places her hands on Anne's shoulders. "Your journey will take you through the place nearest both your hearts. It will not be the place itself, but merely the illusion of it. There will be temptations and obstacles, but no true danger to your persons. You must both be inside his home before you look or speak. Do you understand?" She laughs lightly as Anne nods. "You've met your first challenge well. It is a good omen. Go bravely, my bonny girl. The flowers will guide your way."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anne feels a ghostly kiss on her forehead, and a breeze. She opens her eyes slowly. They're in the woods, where Anne and Gilbert first met. Anne takes a deep breath and takes one step forward, then stops, unsure if she should head the way the Blythe property should be, or some other way. She casts a look around, and something catches her eye: a cherry tree, blooming in autumn woods. The Snow Queen.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"The flowers will guide your way."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anne turns in that direction, nearly telling Gilbert they should head that way, only to stop when she remembers that's the one thing she should not do. Instead, she tightens her grip on his hand and pulls gently. Gilbert follows, unusually docile. Anne chews on her lip. She doesn't like this. She saw him, knows the way his hand feels in hers. This is him, but somehow not.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just as she's thinking it, he speaks. "Anne, my house is that way." He tugs only the barest bit, but continues to follow her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anne shakes her head, pointing up ahead at the Snow Queen.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Oh, of course," Gilbert says. "You want to go to the cliffs above the beach. The view is nice."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He can't see the tree, Anne realizes with a start. She also wants to tell him the cliffs are farther away than that, but when she looks again, she sees them just beyond the Snow Queen. Another few minutes, and they'll be on her particular favorite bluff.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She expects to smell the sea air when they get there, but instead, it's lilies-of-the-valley, and she can't smell it when she looks out over the water; instead, it's back in the direction of Green Gables. She has her next direction.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Anne, what's the rush?" Gilbert wants to know. "Don't you want to stop and look at the water? I've always wanted to with you, you know." He stands behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. Anne sighs and leans back into his arms, gripping his hands tightly as they stand there for what could be seconds or hours. She could stay here like this forever, but God only knows what kind of illusion this is and where they really are.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Besides, she realizes after a little while, he's just a little too warm. Without looking, she raises her hand to his cheek, then slides it up to his forehead. Her heart sinks. The fever is back. She pulls his arms from her waist and circles so as not to give the appearance of trying to sneakily catch a glimpse of Gilbert, pulling him on to their next destination.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Anne, please tell me where we're going?" He asks. "I'm not feeling well. I need to stop."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He sounds like he's in pain. Anne bites her lip again and sketches a house in the air so Gilbert can see. She thinks about writing in the dirt, but if that counts as using words, she loses him, and that can't happen.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Going home is a good idea, but Anne, why aren't you speaking to me?" Gilbert tugs her to a stop. "Why… why won't you look at me? You're still wearing the ring, so I don't understand—have I done something wrong?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anne shakes her head, tears already springing to her eyes. She pulls Gilbert harder than she means to and stops as he stumbles a step. She squeezes his hand and continues walking.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Behind her, Gilbert continues. "Anne, please, we didn't talk for so long at the start. You can't shut me out like this. I can't bear it, not again. We can get through whatever it is; just please tell me!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anne doesn't stop. She dashes her tears from her eyes with the back of her free hand before once again sketching a house in the air.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Gilbert, however, won't be deterred so easily this time. "Why can't you tell me until we get to the house? Anne, please, we need to stop. We need to talk, and I don't… I don't feel well. Everything hurts, Anne. My arms, my legs… But it's my heart that hurts most right now. I feel like I can't breathe. Just please, tell me: do you still love me?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anne catches the YES in her throat before it can rip its way out, nodding vigorously instead as her tears continue relentlessly. She doesn't want to hold it in. She hates this; hates it with every fiber of her being. But she'd walk through fire without a second thought if it would bring Gilbert back to her. Then again, that would be easier to bear than this is.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Then why won't you say it? What about me isn't enough? What's hurting you? And why can't you see that this is hurting me?" Once again, Gilbert pulls them to a stop. "Anne, there's a church right over there. If that's what you want, I'd do it. Right now. I'd have done it months ago. It's all I want. They're all waiting. They're waiting for us. Anne, please…"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anne can hear the tears in his voice. She can put herself through the pain, but Gilbert… She's tried this already. She promised herself she never would again, and yet here she is. She just wants everything to be as it was before.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Is this even Gilbert? The thought shakes her to her core. She's seen him, but she had to close her eyes. If the Queen could approach her without being heard, and if she and the King could summon this illusion of Avonlea… No; she must have faith! Even if this isn't really Gilbert, she has to believe he'll be waiting at the end of this. She won't let this be for nothing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They have to keep going. But how? Anne closes her eyes and tries to breathe. The familiar delicate scent of apple blossoms reaches her nose. She opens her eyes, and the house is there. A path of blossoms lines the way. They're so close!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anne points and surges ahead again.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>It takes her twenty minutes to realize that the house is growing no closer. The walk is interminable, and behind her, Gilbert's breathing grows more labored. He staggers a few times, and his pleas to just stop and rest become desperate.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's too much. Anne finally stops and takes in a breath, then lets out a wordless cry of pain and rage and hopelessness.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Anne?" Mary's voice from inside the house—suddenly right in front of them—brings Anne back. "Is everything alright? I mean, I know it isn't since—" she gasps then manages a strangled yelp. "Anne, what is that? What have you…"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bash joins his wife, immediately stepping in front of her as his instinct to protect his family takes over. "Anne, tell me you didn't…"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anne can't speak; they're not past the threshold. She starts forward, but Bash blocks her way. "You're not bringing that in here, Anne. Gilbert's… He's gone. He can't… You can't…"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anne shakes her head and takes another step. Bash mirrors her gesture, and, brave as he's trying to sound, his voice shakes with grief and fear. "I don't know what that is or how you think it's Gilbert, Anne, but it's not. I can't let you in."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anne can hold back no longer. Gilbert's hand is practically burning hers. Desperately hoping that Bash and Mary will see sense, she begs, "Please, just trust me: he'll be fine once he gets inside, but right now, he's not inside, and he's not fine!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And he's not. Realizing the mistake she's made, Anne turns to Gilbert, knowing that she can't take it back. It's already too late. His hand goes from scorching in hers to unnervingly cool in an instant, and he crumples.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The shred of composure Anne has barely been clinging to is now gone. "Gilbert!" she screams, clutching his body—it isn't him; it's only his body now—as she sinks to the ground with it. She bows her forehead to his and sobs, "I'm sorry, Gilbert. I'm so, so sorry. I couldn't… I couldn't… I just wanted… It's my fault…"</em>
</p>
<hr/><hr/><p>Anne starts awake, tears already streaming down her cheeks. She knows it was a dream, and she takes a shaking breath to tell herself just that, only to dissolve completely and utterly into a sobbing wreck. She'd already known what she'd stood to lose the day she told him her feelings. This isn't necessary and it isn't wanted.</p><p>She's lived the tragical romance of not allowing herself to love and be loved, and even though it was bearable, she'd thought it worse than the pain of loving and losing. Now, however, she's not sure which is worse.</p>
<hr/><p>"Uncle Gilbert!" Dellie comes racing into the orchard, then stops obediently as she reaches Gilbert, as Bash is nearby. She's been told she can't just jump into his arms like she did before he got sick, but as he's healed more, he's let her do it when her mama and papa and grandma Hazel aren't looking. (He has, of course, told them he allows it, and it makes for great amusement when Dellie has to calculate whether to stop or barrel ahead.)</p><p>Gilbert beckons her forward and scoops her up into his arms. "What's the news, Dellie-Dellie?"</p><p>"Auntie Anne is here!" his niece chirps brightly. "Mama said come get you quick, and I did…" Her smile falters. "Auntie Anne is really sad."</p><p>Gilbert hurries back to the house without another word, passing Dellie off to Hazel (who tells Dellie she should read grandma and baby Isaac a story) when they get in the door. It takes him another five steps to reach Anne, and right now, with the state she's in, it's five steps too many.</p><p>Mary holds Anne, who is weeping brokenly in her arms. "He's right here, sweetheart," she murmurs to Anne, turning her to Gilbert and taking her leave, gently squeezing Gilbert's shoulder as she passes him.</p><p>A fresh wave of tears overtakes Anne as she buries her head against Gilbert's shoulder and wraps her arms around him like he's the only thing keeping her upright at the moment. "Anne," he murmurs into her hair. "Anne, I'm right here. Tell me what's wrong. Do you need me to come to Green Gables?" His heart sinks as he asks.</p><p>Anne shakes her head against his shoulder. "It-t's n-not tha-a-that," she gasps. "It's… it's…"</p><p>"Deep breaths." Gilbert breathes the way he wants Anne to, and slowly, she calms enough to get the words out.</p><p>"I had a nightmare. I've had nightmares before, but never like this. I— you— I lost you. Twice. And it was my fault." Her voice breaks at the end, but she's still more in control than she was before. "I know it's not real, but some of it almost was. That's what I can't stop thinking about." She hiccups, embarrassed. "I'm s-sorry; I shouldn't have come. You h-have more important-t things to do than comfort me after a bad dream. I sh-should have just waited instead-d of childishly—"</p><p>"Anne." Gilbert says her name quietly, but it's enough to stem the torrent of invective she's about to unleash on herself. "It's fine. I don't want you to go. Life is… rarely convenient. Just let me finish up a few things with Bash and Elijah, and then we'll go for a walk." He presses a kiss to the top of her head.</p><p>He knows Anne wants to protest, so it's equal parts heartwarming and worrying when she nods into his chest and gives him one last tight hug before he goes back outside.</p><p>"Everything alright?" Bash asks. Gilbert reads like an open book, so Bash clearly knows it can't be too terrible, but Gilbert's sure Bash is seeing Gilbert's reaction to Anne's hurt (and if he's honest, to her nightmare as well) on his face, plain as day.</p><p>Gilbert nods, but it's as non-committal as a nod can be. "Nothing that can't wait for us to finish this up," he replies.</p><p>Bash doesn't look entirely convinced, but he and Gilbert and Elijah finish talking about the export they'll be getting ready for the Barrys, after which Bash promptly declares he's neglected his wife and children for too long this morning, and Hazel's been wanting Elijah to teach her the finer points of poker (which never ceases to amaze Gilbert, but Hazel has a sharp mind, and Gilbert thinks she also enjoys surprising Elijah just when he thinks he's figured her out), and so they'd best go inside.</p><p>They find Anne inside, refusing to let Hazel help more than is necessary with making some sandwiches to bring with her and Gilbert. Bash would normally tease, as he's still getting it out of his system, but one look at Anne's still clearly tear-streaked face has him merely placing a hand on her shoulder before sweeping up both Dellie and Isaac in his arms and greeting Mary. Elijah engages Hazel in preparing lunch. He's a swift learner in the kitchen, surprising Hazel as much as she enjoys surprising him. He's admitted some of his talent is due to his upbringing Mary's hands, and it makes Mary go quiet but proud when he does.</p><p>Nobody says a thing to Anne and Gilbert as they leave. It's a combination of not being sure what to say, and knowing that this is a discussion that ultimately needs to be between the couple for the moment. One or both of them will tell their families later.</p>
<hr/><p>They don't speak much as they make their way to a secluded grove of trees at the edge of the Cuthbert property. Anne assures Gilbert that neither Matthew nor Jerry will be out this way this afternoon. The words don't make his heart leap like they might under different circumstances, but he knows there will be plenty of time for continuing to steal those moments in the future. This afternoon is for making sure that they can grow toward that togetherness, even in the face of adversity.</p><p>Hazel, ever vigilant, had pressed a light blanket for them to sit on into Gilbert's arms as they'd left. He spreads the blanket out and they sit, eating in near quiet except when he points out a dragonfly or butterfly, or when Anne spots a red-tailed hawk hassling some crows. (Anne startles a laugh out of Gilbert by remarking wryly that one of the crows must have pulled the hawk's tail feathers, tucking an errant tendril of hair behind her ear as she does so.)</p><p>Gilbert goes on to discuss some of what he's learned in the courses he's taken on the natural world, mostly the plant life, as that's been a recent subject. In the absence of making or eating sandwiches to occupy her hands, Anne now fidgets, twisting the ring on her finger. She does it absently at first, but she stops really following the conversation and focuses on her hand instead. Gilbert notices and takes her hands in his, running his thumbs across the backs of her fingers first, then lifting one to his face and molding her hand to his cheek, and finally lacing her fingers with his. Anne is still quiet, but she seems to relax a little. It's not much, but it's promising. He'll take it.</p><p>After several minutes' silence, he asks softly, "Do you want to tell me more about the nightmare?" Gilbert wants with all his heart to do what it takes to make her smile, but he can't help dreading an affirmative answer.</p><p>A horrified Anne shakes her head. "No! No… All I'll say is that I'll be staying away from Orpheus and Eurydice's tale for a while."</p><p>"Ah." While Anne's nightmare was no doubt vivid and upsetting in the extreme, this one bit of knowledge gives Gilbert a strange kind of peace. It's still upsetting, but it's still a very Anne sort of dream, he supposes.</p><p>He tells her as much and one corner of her mouth only just lifts as she agrees, "I suppose it is." She tilts her head just a little. "I'll be writing mostly articles and essays this coming term, thankfully. I'll make a return to literature the term after."</p><p>Gilbert sees some of the tension leave her posture, but her shoulders are still a little hunched. He's been sitting with his back to the sun—he likes the feel of it, especially after being cooped up for a couple weeks—but now he now pivots to sit with his back against the same tree Anne's sitting against. Anne doesn't even look up at him to make sure he's offering what she thinks he is. Instead, she tucks herself against his side, her head resting on his shoulder and one hand falling over his heart.</p><p>It's actually that last bit that does give her pause. Her hand twitches, and she starts to move it away, but Gilbert puts a hand over it to keep it there. If she needs reassurance today, then reassurance she shall have. He's certainly not going to complain about a chance to hold and be held. It's getting more difficult to excuse those moments. Everyone's willing to be lenient with a just-engaged couple, particularly when one of them is recovering from a long illness, but they know it's a matter of time before people start insisting on a wedding so that the unseemliness of their ardency is minimized. (Or so Anne phrased it in a fit of pique the other day after overhearing who else but Rachel Lynde say something to the effect.)</p><p>It's not long before Anne relaxes fully and lapses into a half-dozing state. She makes a soft noise when Gilbert lowers them both to the ground so they can really nap without fear of shifting away from the tree, but all she does is pull herself closer to him, and Gilbert's not entirely sure how his heart can clench and soar at the same time, but it does. He breathes in time with her as her breaths truly even out into sleep, but where she's had too little, he's had too much to truly sleep right now.</p><p>It's probably for the best. This is a spot they know to be secluded often enough, but there's always a risk that someone (or something—Josie Pye has claimed a crow attempted to steal her engagement ring during a picnic, though Gilbert's not sure how much he believes that) could happen by, and while being awake wouldn't do much given that they're clearly trying to be out of sight, one or both of them being asleep definitely makes the thought worse. Gilbert checks his watch. They have an hour before he wants to be back; he figures he can let Anne nap for half an hour at least. Idly, he wonders what would happen if he had to carry a sleeping Anne back to Green Gables, and has to keep silent laughter from shaking Anne awake.</p><p>The last time they'd had this much unchaperoned time together—only a month ago, which is far too long if you ask either of them—they'd been asleep for most of it. Now, at least he's able to take in the beautiful simplicity of it. He feels a little odd, enjoying a moment Anne can't in the same way, but he's hoping her peaceful rest will make up for it. Someday (really many somedays, he hopes), they'll both lie awake together like this, in both the wild places Anne has a knack for discovering and in the privacy of their own home. They know it's not sinful to love or be loved, just as they know that they will seal that love in a societally preordained way when the time is right. (And it's not that Anne herself wouldn't prefer to sooner rather than later; it's that they've agreed there are some lines they must walk for the sakes of their futures.)</p><p>Gilbert's musing if he can reach a wildflower just at the edge of the blanket without disturbing Anne when she stirs, slowly coming to. Gilbert abandons his plans to reach the flower and instead wraps his arms around Anne, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Anne looks up at him, and while she still seems more at peace than she has, the relief that lights her eyes for the briefest of moments gnaws at his heart in the brief instant before she pulls herself in for a kiss.</p><p>It's not desperate like he's expecting, though. It's urgent, certainly, but it's warm and soft and full of promise. It's also—unsurprisingly—full of desire. Even so, it's a surprise when Anne twists, catching Gilbert off-guard just enough that their positions switch. He pulls back in surprise; he doesn't think Anne is looking to engage in anything too dangerous, but she's certainly looking for <em>something.</em></p><p>His eyes meet hers for less than a second, and he realizes what he needs to do before realizing why: he takes one of Anne's hands in one of his, lacing their fingers together, and holds them between their hearts. His voice is quiet but strong when he assures her, "I'm here, Anne. I'm not going anywhere."</p><p>Anne's expression cycles rapidly through mild surprise and teary relief to finally settle on pure tenderness. Gilbert returns the look before turning his attentions back to their previous activities.</p><p>It turns out less heady than both of them would like, but that's something they're already used to. Still, there's plenty of room for less scandalous forms of impropriety. Anne should not seize Gilbert's suspenders (and under <em>no circumstances whatever</em> should she snake her hand under his waistcoat to do so!), and Gilbert should not slide his hand dangerously low on Anne's back to pull her as close to him as possible.</p><p>But they do, both for the reassurance it provides them and because, quite simply, it's wonderful. The kisses they exchange are hard and passionate at first; then, as the moments pass, they soften and grow more drawn out, and the hands that held each other so fiercely close move to bestow gentle caresses.</p><p>Soon, they're lying on their sides facing each other, not quite pressed against each other, but still too close for the comfort of some. Gilbert tucks back the loose lock of hair Anne had dealt with earlier, trailing his hand down her cheek. She catches his hand and kisses it, then smiles warmly at him before realizing with a bit of a start: "How long was I asleep?"</p><p>"Not too long." Gilbert checks his pocket watch, blinking before he adds, "But we should be getting back."</p><p>"We were… otherwise engaged for that long?" Anne wants to be horrified, but she has to suppress laughter instead when Gilbert replies completely sincerely, "Not long enough."</p><p>"Propriety dictates that I ought not inform you that your wickedly bold sentiment is very much shared," Anne informs him mock-primly as they go about folding up the picnic blanket. "It further dictates I ought not reveal to you the locations of some secluded areas reliable sources have informed me that young lovers are known to frequent around Kingsport."</p><p>Gilbert chuckles. "And I in turn ought to insist we refrain from scandalizing each other further by discussing just how we might like to spend time in such places."</p><p>Anne can no longer hold back her own laughter. "We understand each other then," she states, her eyes dancing with merriment. She's quiet for a minute as they begin their walk back toward Green Gables hand-in-hand, then she sighs softly. "Thank you, Gil. I needed this."</p><p>"I did, too," he replies quietly. "I hope you know that I'll always make time for you."</p><p>"I do." Anne nods once, very certain. "I hope you know that I'd do the same for you."</p><p>"Anne, I <em>absolutely</em> do," Gilbert tells her. "But I hope we can enjoy these moments on their own merits."</p><p>Anne nods again. "Of course! Some facet of love is work often enough, but a good deal of it ought to be joyful. I know it is for me."</p><p>This time, it's Gilbert who nods. "And for me, as well. <em>Always.</em>" He squeezes Anne's hand.</p><p>Anne gives him a brilliant smile and squeezes back. "<em>Always.</em>"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I got this idea when Hades pretty much sucked up two weeks of my free time. I wanted mostly to do an Orpheus/Eurydice gender flip, but I also wanted to nod to the main character of the game, as well. As to what that is… well, that's a spoiler for the game.</p><p>As for the King and Queen of the Underworld Anne dreams but cannot see: they are indeed her parents. Does her parents being gods make sense in a dream where she is clearly(?) mortal? No, and Anne herself would know that, but 1) she doesn't know they're her parents, and 2) it's a dream, so it's not always logical.</p><p>In the not-dream realm of this story, Anne's line about love being joyful work was inspired by the speech my lovely bestie gave at my wedding. That wisdom has served us well.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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